The Last Chance
by TheTragedyIs13
Summary: James Moody watches a senior officer take his life and refuses a place in a lifeboat, sealing his fate. A one shot and an experiment. Please read and review because that would be lovely.


He walked quickly through the bridge, past Mr. Boxhall, who was with Quartermaster Rowe, sending off the last of the distress rockets, and towards Mr. Murdoch, who was sending off Collapsible C at that moment.

As he came over to assist in helping to bring down Collapsible A, a hand grabbed him from behind, whipping him around.

Mr. Murdoch was inches from his face, his eyes wide with fear. "What the hell are you still doing on this ship, Moody?"

James struggled to find words, but Mr. Murdoch released him, saying, "Help them get A down. We need to get it ready. That water's not slowing down!"

"Yes, sir!" James said before turning to climb atop the officer's quarters where several other crewmen were assembled, uncovering the last boat on the starboard side.

Down below, Mr. Wilde and several other crewmen formed a ring around where Collapsible A would fall, protecting it from panicking passengers.

"Right, start rocking it," Mr. Murdoch ordered. He then gestured to the crewmen below. "Put some oars under it so it won't hit the deck!"

"Aye, sir!" came the response.

"Stand on either side of me," James instructed the crewmen who stood with him as they readied the lifeboat to be lowered to the deck. Across from them, on the other side, he noticed that they were doing the exact same thing for Collapsible B. The crewmen put James in the middle while Mr. Murdoch, who was now on top of the officer's quarters with them, continued to shout instructions while Mr. Wilde kept the passengers at bay. "And get an oar under it!"

"Keep her rocking!" Mr. Murdoch yelled as they rocked the lifeboat closer to the edge.

James felt it slip a little and tightened his grip on the boat.

"Hold it, hold it!" Mr. Murdoch shouted as the aft end of the lifeboat slipped down further before they lost grip on it completely, letting fall down onto the boat deck, snapping the oars in half like they were nothing more than twigs.

James jumped down and moved over to stand by Mr. Wilde, who had broken away from keeping the passengers back for a moment.

"We'll need to make sure it's got plenty of blankets," Mr. Wilde told James, who nodded.

At the same time, Mr. Murdoch ran towards them, pointing at the boat. "Get these davits cranked in! And get the falls hooked up!"

James took it upon himself to help a crewmen crank the left davit back into place while Mr. Wilde steadily let in a small number of women and children to board the lifeboat once the falls were attached.

"Right, men, let's get them in," Mr. Murdoch ordered.

James began lifting woman after woman into the lifeboat while Mr. Wilde had to keep shooting his gun to keep the men back.

"I'll shoot any man who tries to get past me, get back!" James heard Mr. Murdoch shout.

Turning to look, a bit of rope in his hand from the slack on the falls, James watched as a red haired man tried to make it to the boat.

"Will you give us the chance to live, you limey bastard!" the Irishman screamed.

"Get back!" Mr. Murdoch warned, aiming his gun menacingly at the crowds.

James could not help it. He forgot what he was doing and he stood and watched.

Mr. Murdoch had been so taciturn during the entire trip, never once raising his voice at anyone. But now, there he was, pointing a gun at desperate men trying to make it off the ship alive.

A tall man with disheveled black hair pushed forward and, though he had lowered his voice a little, James could still hear what the man was saying.

"We had a deal, damn you!"

Mr. Murdoch reached into his pocket, not taking his eyes away from the gentlemen, and threw a wad of money back at the man, who looked offended.

"You're money can't save you any more than it can save me. Get back!" Mr. Murdoch shoved the man away, still aiming his gun.

Unconsciously, James stepped forward a little. Mr. Wilde's cry for more women and children fell into the background as one man tried to climb over the others.

Mr. Murdoch pointed and shot his gun, hitting the man in the knee.

He collapsed the ground and James suspected that the passengers now wanted nothing more than to get away from Mr. Murdoch, who looked positively mad.

James saw the man push the Irish man forward. He opened his mouth to stop Mr. Murdoch, but it was too late.

The bullet hit the Irish man in the chest and, along with a dark haired Italian man, they both collapsed to the ground.

James briefly feared the Italian man had been shot as well, but no. The Italian man was trying to keep the Irish man awake. He then turned his attention to Mr. Murdoch, shouting obscenities in both English and Italian.

Before he realized it, James found himself standing between two crewmen. Everyone was staring in horror at Mr. Murdoch, who was slowly stepping away from the blood.

Shaking his head, unable to believe that Mr. Murdoch, the man he had taken his watches with for four days, had known him for over a month, had taken a man's life in a moment of desperation.

As he turned his attention back to the task at hand, which was making sure that the boat was hooked up properly to the davits, he knew that Mr. Murdoch would find it hard to live with himself, knowing he had killed a man.

And then he heard Mr. Wilde yelling.

"No, Will!"

James whipped around in time to see Mr. Murdoch put his gun to his head and pull the trigger, toppling over the edge of the ship like a puppet with his strings cut.

Gaping in horror, James could only stare at the spot where Mr. Murdoch once stood.

He hoped God would forgive him.

"Get back, damn you!" Mr. Wilde shouted to the men. "Get back!"

James finally gave up. The water was getting too close now. It was too late to try and lower the boat. They would just have to take the boat from the falls and let it simply float away.

"Please, I have a child!" a man cried desperately. "I have a child!"

"Clear a path here!" Mr. Wilde ordered.

"Please, I have a child," the man said. James turned and spotted the very man Mr. Murdoch had shoved away, now holding a crying girl. "Please, I'm all she has in the world."

James snorted. Mr. Wilde couldn't possibly believe that, James thought. But no, the man was now getting into the lifeboat with the stolen little girl.

First class cowards, he thought furiously as he turned to check the level of the water.

"Mr. Wilde!" he shouted as the water lapped around his shoes. He turned and looked at the Chief Officer, who had looked around at the sound of his name. "There isn't any time, sir! We have to cut it loose!"

All of the sudden, the ship plunged even deeper and a wave of water washed over James. He had only just managed to hold on to a rope before his feet were swept out from under him.

Somewhere, over all the noise of screaming people and water rushing over him, he could hear the strains of a song.

The band was still playing, he thought incredulously as he struggled through the icy water towards the side of the boat.

James struggled to keep the boat from capsizing while Mr. Wilde shouted orders over his head.

"There's no time! Cut those falls!" he screamed at the crewmen. "Cut 'em! Cut 'em if you have to!"

Still attempting to keep the boat level, he listened as crewmen shouted at one another, looking for a knife to cut the falls.

"I need a knife!" a man to his left shouted. "I need a knife!"

The water was up to his waist now and only getting higher. They needed to free the boat right then if they wanted to the people inside it to survive.

"James, get in!" Mr. Wilde ordered, but James shook his head.

"No, sir!" James shouted back.

"Dammit, James, you need to get in!"

"No!" James still held tightly to the boat as the water rose. "We're going to get this boat free, sir, and that's that!"

As he struggled through the water, Mr. Wilde shook his head and turned away as the crewmen continued to cut the falls. He saw the Italian man from before even hacking away at the falls and James felt a surge of respect for the man.

But then he lost his grip on the boat and, with as much water as was rushing forward and not all the falls being cut, the boat began to tip dangerously, spilling many passengers into the water.

James lost his footing and slipped under, surfacing several seconds later. His cap was gone and he had long since lost feeling in his legs. His fingers were going numb, but he still had to see the boat righted.

Pushing several people back into the boat, James saw the gentlemen from before take an oar and push away from the sinking ship.

Relief flooded him as the boat righted itself, no doubt filled with water, but at least it was upright. He did notice that the canvas side had not been pulled up, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

As the boat floated off, James made his way back to the ship, pulling himself on top of the officer's quarters and out of the water.

But no sooner had he lifted himself from the water than did the wires holding the first funnel in place snap.

James stumbled back as the base of the funnel crumbled before toppling over, dropping right on top of dozens passengers.

He stood paralyzed with fear before remembering that he stood knee deep in water and needed to get to the stern as quickly as possible.

As he tripped and stumbled towards the stern, being carried along with all the other petrified passengers, he spotted Mr. Wilde, dripping wet, but blowing his whistle, pointing the passengers to the stern.

"Mr. Wilde!" James shouted, coming to stand beside him.

"We need to get them aft," Mr. Wilde told him as he waved on more and more people.

James nodded. "Yes, sir."

Moving away from Mr. Wilde, James climbed over the rail, dropping down onto A deck. He nearly fell over, but he managed to keep his balance.

"This way," he called over the crowds. "Move to the stern! Move back! Go to the stern!"

A young couple pushed by him, the young woman with curly red hair wearing a coat that was obviously a gentlemen's coat. He watched them briefly as they pushed towards the rail.

"We have to stay on this ship as long as possible, come on!" the man told her, pulling her towards the stern.

James watched them go before he continued to usher passengers aft.

The lights kept flickering and James wondered if any of the engineering crew had left their stations. He knew they had been ordered to, but given that the lights were still going strong, he doubted that they had come up at all.

Gradually, the ship sank lower, the stern rising higher.

James made his way to the rail and climbed over them, dropping down to B deck. His feet kept slipping out from under him and he only managed to hold on to the rail as people kept sliding by him.

Pulling himself over to the stairs that led down the aft well deck, James vaulted over the side, landing heavily onto the deck. After he regained his footing, he pressed forward, the lights still flickering ominously. He vaguely wondered ow much longer it would take before they would go out.

But no sooner had he reached the stairs that would lead to the poop deck than the lights flickered and finally went out completely.

Almost at the same time, a loud explosion rent the air, coupling the screams as the explosions continued.

And then there was the sensation of falling as the stern suddenly dropped back into the water.

James clung desperately to the rail and, unable to contain his fear any longer, a scream tore from his throat as the stern slammed back into water, jerking him to the side.

As he tightened his grip on the rail, he looked up in time to see the fourth funnel fall over and roll off the ship.

He could feel the stern being pulled down and up and, without giving it much thought, he pulled himself up the rest of the way and onto the rail that overlooked the aft well deck and other decks, which were now slowly being enveloped by water.

The stern did not stop rising until it was completely perpendicular with the water. And that's when people began losing their grips and falling down the length of stern, into the water, into rails, and into one another.

More than one person slammed into the rail beside James, and, as the water had just submerged the decks, he swore he saw Mr. Wilde tumbled past him and into the water.

Taking a deep breath, he waited until the water was nearly upon him before launching himself out.

The suction pulled at him, but James kicked with all his might, surfacing just in time to see the stern go under completely.

As he swam away, the screams for help deafening, James began looking for something to hold on to while he waited for the lifeboats to return.

He knew, without a doubt, that Harold would return. He would just have to hold on until Harold came back.

Or, he thought, he could try for a boat, though he couldn't remember when the last place he saw one.

No, he was better off just clinging to a deck chair and waiting for a lifeboat to return.

But he could feel himself slipping. He doubted it had been more than five minutes since the ship had sank, but he had long since lost feeling in his body. He had stopped shivering and, though he could hear Mr. Wilde blowing uselessly on his whistle somewhere close by, had stopped hoping the lifeboats would return.

It had gotten quiet as well, people freezing to death so quickly. James had tried to keep his body moving, but he couldn't tell if he was moving at all. His breathing had gotten shallow and he could barely turn his head to see if any help was on the way.

And then he heard it, a voice calling out over the dead.

"Is there anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?"

James saw the torches from the sole lifeboat that had returned. And he had been right. Harold would not be able to let people die.

He struggled to talk, but his voice would not work. And he watched as Harold floated towards him, still calling out for survivors.

A voice called out in a foreign language and James watched hopelessly as the lifeboat made its way towards the survivor.

"Put blankets on him!" Harold cried. "Keep him warm!"

James wanted to swim over to Harold, to be saved. But his body had long since stopped responding and he was far too tired to try anyways.

"Is there anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?"

The voice was getting closer and James barely managed to keep his eyes open, watching as the lifeboat got closer.

Some part of him was glad Harold was so close, but he knew it was too late. He was barely alive, his consciousness slipping away like sand through open fingers.

"James!" Harold cried. "Pull, men, pull!"

James watched the boat move closer, watched as crewmen lifted bodies out of the way, but he closed his eyes one last time and breathed his last breath just as a crewmen made to remove him from the water.

It was too late. James Moody was gone.


End file.
